


Lightning

by storm_queen



Category: Captain Marvel (Marvel)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:45:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2472053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_queen/pseuds/storm_queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carol has had Monica inside her. Granted, it was in the form of electricity, for the purpose of defeating a giant robot, but she's still thinking about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lightning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SapphoIsBurning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/gifts).



> This comes straight from the mini-arc in issues 7 and 8 of Kelly Sue DeConnick's Captain Marvel, collected at the start of the "Down" tpb. Dialogue in the first section is taken directly from issue 8.
> 
> Thanks so much for the opportunity to play with these badass women! I hope you enjoy it.

Carol could feel Monica filtering inside her, and it wasn’t a feeling she especially liked. It was almost like her own body was expanding, with an invisible, intangible presence that wasn’t her. It was alien, outside her control… and a little exciting.

“You with me?” she asked, turning her hand over and staring at the light emanating from under her skin. Even through the suit, Monica’s mark was undeniable.

“Oh, I am with you all right.” Monica’s voice sounded darkly from inside Carol’s own head. Like a hallucination, she guessed. Or maybe like mind control. “How you feeling?”

On edge. Wound tight. Tighter than normal. Intensely aware of Monica somehow _filling_ every bit of her. Every bit.

“Little embarrassed, honestly,” she admitted, because she was pretty sure Monica had to be feeling that too. And could potentially read her mind. “I am not a **fan** of embarrassed, Monica,” she added, just in case her body was sending mixed messages. “What say you and me make this big robot pay?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, and ignored Frank’s hoot of support. Right now, this was between her, Monica and Optimus Prime over there. She channeled every bit of Monica she could feel before blasting forward. It took a lot out of her, but she knew even before the pulse hit home that they had nailed it.

\---

Carol cleared her throat, breaking the silence that had fallen as Frank headed off to his hotel. She should have taken off herself - she wasn’t kidding about being ready for her own bed - but it was worth a shot. "So... you know that thing where you were... inside me?"

"I thought we weren't gonna talk about that." Monica’s voice should have shut down the conversation, but Carol persisted anyway. Okay, so it wasn’t the best segue, but she had to start somewhere.

"Well, not about that, exactly. Only I feel like there's a way to do that without the... creepy space in between my atoms and the whole mind reading thing." Well, that seemed clear enough.

"What do you mean?" Monica was raising her eyebrows to give Carol a _look_ that had to mean she was messing with her.

"Don't play coy," Carol answered, flushing.

"You're the one who's playing coy! If you want me to fuck you, just say it. It's nothing I didn't already see inside your mind, remember."

Of course Monica could be that open about it. And of course she had been inside Carol’s mind. "Thanks for that. Yeah. Okay.” And then, because she had gone this far and it was all but out in the open anyway, “ So would it be such a bad idea?"

"You steal my name, show up, and expect me to put out for you?" Monica’s _look_ had gotten even more cavalier, and of course they weren’t done with the name thing yet. They were never going to be done with the name thing.

“Hey, it's not like I picked Photon! This was about me and Mar-Vell. Not you. Because not everything is about you."

"Fair enough.” Monica seemed to consider for a moment, then shrugged. “Okay."

"Okay? Okay what?"

"You want it. I want it. We're both adults. So long as it’s not going to turn into something complicated - which, judging by the inside of your mind, I don’t think it is - ”

“You know what, you’re right,” Carol interrupted. “Let’s not talk about that anymore. But no. It’s not gonna be a thing.”

“Then your place or mine?” Monica asked. Her body began sparking, tensing up to transform. “I’ll race you.”

“Mine.” Carol wasn’t anxious to get kicked out of Monica Rambeau’s apartment at three in the morning, and if she was in her own bed, she could almost pretend she had the upper hand.

Monica was nothing but light then, and Carol pushed up into the atmosphere, feeling the freedom and sheer muscular relief that came from flying. She was streaking across the sky without a backward glance. New Orleans wasn’t too far away when you traveled at the speed of light.

\---

Landing at her apartment, Carol wasn't surprised to see Monica had gotten there first. And let herself in, probably just by beaming under the door.

"Just go on and make yourself at home," she said pointedly.

Monica smiled innocently. "Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked.

"No." They would be fighting for the upper hand all night, most likely. Carol didn't mind. She could still feel the smoky sense of Monica inside her, sensuous and more than a little dangerous. She had been attracted to Monica before, but that was intimacy on a whole other level.

"Finish yours," Carol directed, and Monica raised the glass of Carol's bourbon and swallowed it in a gulp. 

"Gonna cut right to the chase?" she asked, and Carol nodded.

"We can save the small talk for the next time you can't save the world without me," she said. She stepped forward then, her heart pounding in her chest so loudly that she could feel it in her ears, and she closed the distance between them.

Of course Monica had to make the next move, grabbing the back of Carol's neck and pulling her in. Their lips weren't quite touching, but already Carol was overwhelmed by Monica's presence. The smell of bourbon mingled with the scent of Monica's own energy, and Carol had the sudden revelation: _Monica is what lightning would taste like._

Monica would have been willing to stay there, teasing, breathing in the same air. But Carol was impatient, and also still running a little hot with the frustration that came from knowing Monica had been inside her head. It put Monica in charge, leading the situation, and Carol wasn’t going to just sit back and let Monica do the work. She leaned forward to kiss Monica, feeling the smooth lips and tasting the whiskey still on Monica’s lips.

Monica knew what she was doing. She returned Carol’s kiss keenly, and so expertly that she nearly took Carol’s breath away. The hand cradling Carol’s neck dipped down as the kiss deepened, and Monica was running feather-light fingers across Carol’s collarbone.

When they broke apart, Carol was still remembering how to breathe, and Monica smiled smugly. “You ready for this?” she asked, and her fingers dipped lower down the front of Carol’s chest, until Carol bit her lip in anticipation and arousal.

“I don’t know,” she retorted anyway, going for cocky. “You gonna make me see stars?”

Monica lifted her hand then and held up one index finger. The tip of it glowed blue. “Happy?” she asked.

“No.” Carol grabbed Monica’s finger then, putting it to her lips, and the energy coursing through it made her shudder, toes curling up. That was more like it. “I said make me see them, not show them to me.”

“Let’s not waste any more time then.” Monica took Carol’s hand and tugged her along to the bedroom, a gesture that was everything about Monica that intrigued Carol and drove her crazy if they spent too much time together. 

Beside the bed, Monica busied her hands with Carol’s blouse. Carol wasn’t always sure what to do in those situations - help? return the favor? - but she wasn’t going to just stand by, so she put her hands around Monica’s waist, feeling the electricity hum in her thumbs as they settled on Monica’s hipbones.

Carol’s shirt was open now, and Monica dipped under Carol’s arms to her back, maneuvering the bra clasp. The motion drew the two of them together into a purposeful embrace, and Carol’s hands tightened reflexively around Monica.

Monica’s head dropped to whisper in Carol’s ear. “You ready for me to rock your world, Captain Whiz Bang?”

“I bite,” Carol warned her, but Monica just chuckled and grazed her own teeth at the nape of Carol’s neck. And obnoxious nicknames and competition aside, this probably _could_ rock Carol’s world. And she was going to give as good as she got.


End file.
